


Kisses, Kisses Everywhere, and All the Love to Give

by alcyonejonquil



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/F, Feels, Friendship, Gen, Love, OC Kiss Bingo, Prompt Fill, Romantic Fluff, loving mentions of body modification, yes indeed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:55:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22986718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alcyonejonquil/pseuds/alcyonejonquil
Summary: [The people of the Discord server are awesome and the people of the Discord server have come up with a list of prompts, for us to write and draw our characters caring for each other - and maybe finding a bit of respite in that from the mad, often harsh and war-torn world they live in.][And given how many of us tend to put these creations of ours through the absolutewringeron a not-irregular basis... I'd say they more than deserve it.]Therefore:Ch. 1: Sejuani of the Skaal & Clea Orsino;Ch. 2: Commander Tamerion & Erdi;Ch. 3: Arabella/Gasha.
Relationships: Original Character(s) & Original Character(s), Original Characters/Original Characters
Comments: 18
Kudos: 9
Collections: OC Kiss Bingo 2020





	1. Forehead/Temple Kiss, Relieved Kiss: Sejuani and Clea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Syllis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syllis/gifts), [Iunara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iunara/gifts), [Kestrelshade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kestrelshade/gifts), [raunchyandpaunchy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raunchyandpaunchy/gifts), [AshYamStew](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshYamStew/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sejuani is [Ash-Yam-Stew](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sejuani)'s absolutely lovely Skaal Nord Dragonborn, with a secret of a magical nature that she holds on to for dear life. (Her story hasn't been published on AO3 as of yet, but, one day! <3)
> 
> Clea is my own Imperial disaster of a girl who _is trying her best, damn it._ "Lilly" is what she calls her faithful companion/sister-in-spirit, Illia.

“Lilly, go find out wherever Teldryn’s hanging about and bring him here, will you?”

“Give her one of the bottles I’ve made, they’re in my trunk – just a second, I’ll go grab it…”

“Good, yes, thank you – come on, dear, over here, lay down. Easy now – don’t lean on it, let me fetch –”

“I am _fine_ – “

A hurried look around, followed by a dash for the nearest pillow, laying helter-skelter atop the armchair facing the fire pit.

“Lift up a little – there.”

“Truly, Clea, it’s only grazed me, I’ve suffered many more terrible things before! You’re acting as though I might be…”

“All right,” a short laugh, not quite fearful, not quite appeased, “maybe, but even so, should take another look at it, and your leg, and – ah, thank you, Lill, give it here, and you…” ( _I’m going, I’m going, be back as soon as I find him,_ then the sound of the front door quickly opening and closing) “… but still, taking on three of them at once! Divines’ sake, Sejuani, you’re a very good fighter, but that’s no joke! How did you wander right in the middle of them, anyway? I thought you’d just gone for 'a bit of a walk!'”

“That was the intention,” the girl stopped short, as she struggled to remove the bracer and roll the ruined sleeve up her injured arm with a pained exhale, “and I am telling you, I’ve never seen Ash Spawn in that spot in the past; I have no clue why _today_ , of all days… We’ve gone up and down that path together at least a dozen times, too, so you know there’s been absolutely no sign of any of that.”

“Yes, well,” Clea said, crouched on the floor next to the settee, squinting at the oblong gash in the dim light, “at least it doesn’t seem too deep, I’ll give you that. I _swear_ , though, that I’m not mad, and it looked worse just a minute ago.”

She moved to stand up, muttering all the while.

“Darn Skaal blood must have something – I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone heal off wounds as fast as you do, it’s genuinely… hm? Hey, hey,” she leaned back down, “what’s this, now? Here, drink this, while I go get what I need to clean and dress the cut.”

Sejuani blinked a few times, face gone abruptly paler, and accepted the potion vial with a smile that was but a tiny bit more unsteady than her previous reassurances would have led one to expect.

And the pensive mien remained, even after the arm got smeared with ointment and bandaged, and ice was applied to the bruised knee. And it only deepened as, when all of that was done, her gaze met a relieved yet gently chiding look, and soft lips pressed briefly to her temple streaked with ash. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is, of course, wildly AU, and occurs on Solstheim, where Lilly and Clea have lived for quite a while in my "canon," as well! I loved imagining the three of them meeting there so much <3


	2. Cheek Peck: Erdi and Tamerion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The brilliant Commander Tamerion is [Iunara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iunara)'s creation, and [Syllis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syllis) took from the game the faint whisper of a character by the name of Erdi, surrounded her with love, wrote her and made her truly come to life. I'm just borrowing the two of them for a bit. :D

“… _little_ bit of a garbage dump, isn’t it?”

“… you’d better make sure it’s delivered to us on time, for once – beg your pardon, my lady, you were saying? Didn’t quite catch that, I’m afraid.”

_Shit._

“Oh! Oh, no, no, do not worry at all!”

“And what might you be dallying for, then? Dismissed!” The commander turned his attention from the scurrying recruit back to Erdi with a sigh. “A bit of a bother, keeping these urchins in check, even on the best of days – and you haven’t happened to visit us on one of those, I’m sorry to admit.”

“I can imagine,” she supplied, trying her best not to turn her nose at the blackened lengths of wall still lingering all around them alongside brand new, haphazardly-built ones. “I was just thinking how terrible the damages here must have been, and how difficult of a job you have, bringing it all back up to snuff, sir.”

“Hm, yes,” he mumbled, keeping a measured pace to match her far shorter stride. “Ugly business, that was. I was not here when the beast attacked, admittedly, but I witnessed the results, and please believe me, I have had ample occasion to see misfortune in my lifetime, listened to detailed accounts of even more; nothing quite like this. Hearty town, sturdy buildings, burnt and crumbled and blown apart like parchment. Civilians, good, valuable soldiers, killed or maimed beyond repair. And so quickly! Immense shadow, black as night, came upon them like a whirlwind from the heavens, as though the combined wrath of all the Gods.”

“I’ve heard. Sign of the End Times, the superstitious are saying.”

Would do well to be cagey. More prudent in general, given everything. Never hurts.

The commander faltered in his step, so briefly she nearly missed it.

“Superstitious they may be,” he began anew, voice lowered, “I, for one, am for some reason inclined to agree with them. Or – that is…”

He seemed then to banish the line of thought from his mind with a discreet shake of his head. The bone-weary, though no less companionable grin brought out even further the latticework of lines carved all over his features.

(Such a shame. Rather handsome features, those were, underneath what persistent hardship and the passing of the years had etched upon them. Trustworthy features. Ones she wouldn’t have minded to get to know better; _a lot_ better, in fact.)

“That’s enough of that, already. We shall see. Is there something I can do for you, in the meantime? Or have you come to aid _us,_ perhaps?”

“Oh, I’m not sure I could, sadly,” said Erdi. “More than enough duties of a… personal nature to take care of, as of late. With all due respect, of course. I was only curious – I’d been travelling the province for a while and couldn’t help wanting to take a peek at how Helgen was faring, while I found myself in the area.”

“Well, I do hope we stand up to scrutiny!” She worried she might have offended him, at that, but when she turned her gaze upwards, the anguish in his eyes had been entirely replaced by mirth. “We try very hard to make do with what we have; I can attest to that, at least. Supplies and manpower never do seem to be as abundant as we need them to be – the war took a heavy toll on all of us.”

They’d reached one of the doors to the central keep, so he welcomed her inside with a deferential gesture, and they continued their unhurried walk down the corridors.

“We are glad of the presence of a fellow fighter – a knight! – in our midst, in any event. As short-lived as that presence will turn out to be, if you indeed wish to leave us soon.”

He appeared to consider his next words very carefully.

“There are… many virtues, in remaining what might be called a _lone wolf_. No commitments to a higher power…”

Erdi did her best to ignore the quiet snickering going on in the back of her mind.

“… which means no one to give you orders, question where you’ve been, whose blood drips from your sword and on whose account. For an impartial, intrepid spirit, for a warrior of good standing and the noblest of intentions, that is wholly legitimate, and can be invaluable. But still,” he came to a halt, facing her, hands behind his back, “it would be remiss of me not to urge you to think again. Skyrim needs such men and women, now, more than ever. And the favour of the High King is a powerful tool. It would be unwise to disregard it. And – ”

He searched her face, his expression taking on a strange, contemplative aura, all of a sudden. Which took her slightly aback. All he wanted at the moment was to convince her. That look couldn’t possibly have been genuine. Surely not.

“And his favour you _would_ win. I can see you’ve got fire in your gaze, a certain strength of character. That’s not something you encounter every day to this extent.”

A tiny smile bloomed on his lips, and that was the point where she noticed, accentuated by the light coming from the wall sconces, the long, jagged scar where a blade must have once grazed his throat.

“You remind me of my daughter, to be quite honest. She is the same way.”

 _Is_. ‘She is.’ So, not dead. Why so sad, then, that observation? Where _was_ his daughter?

Also, mmh. _That_ was her notion of maybe some form of... closeness... with this mer thrown out the window.

But it was so odd – an otherwise proud countenance, evidently used to commanding great respect, now displaying such vulnerability.

And what if it wasn’t all him putting on a show?...

Oh, well. Let it not be said that aspirant knight Erdi didn’t have it in her to comfort someone (especially someone whose heart seemed to be in the right place) when she sensed they had need of it. Lady Dibella would have never forgiven her.

Why did Altmer have to be so damnably tall, though? She’d grown accustomed to it by then, but really! Always made things more complicated than they ought to be.

“Thank you, sir. I’ll dwell on it. For now,” she let out a small huff of laughter – how convenient that the hallway was completely deserted, apart from the two of them, “will you please humour me if I ask you to take a seat over there?”

He glanced over his shoulder at the wooden bench, then turned back around, brows furrowed in confusion.

“Certainly.”

She didn’t give him time to question her, or herself to think twice about the massive discourtesy she was about to commit. As soon as he sat down, she leaned forward, hand lightly supporting itself on his shoulder, and gave him the smallest kiss, on the elegant jut of one cheekbone. Merely a fraction of a second long.

He was intent on pleasantly surprising her that day. There followed no anger, no indignant spluttering. Only a faint darkening of his skin, and fondly amused, inquisitive toffee-coloured eyes looking right into her soul.

And, because she was getting far more flustered than him, and couldn’t have just _left it at that_ , she straightened up and said:

“You’re a good man, Commander. Your daughter is lucky to have you. And I won’t forget what you’ve told me. You have my promise.”

 _On second thought_ , she mused, after she’d offered him a nod in farewell and crossed the threshold back into the courtyard, _maybe hanging about a tad wouldn’t be such a horrible idea._

Not to throw her lot in with Ulfric, goodness no! But a slight detour from her mission wasn’t going to be the end of the world, necessarily.

 _Perhaps,_ she resumed, gazing with newfound tenderness at the flurry of training and building and organising taking place all around her, _perhaps there are some lessons to be learned here yet._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tamerion is the father of [Iunara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iunara)'s character Senja. This one-shot takes place in an alternate universe based on the narrative of her fics, where the Stormcloaks won the Great War, and the shrewd, hugely talented battlemage and strategist Tamerion, here, was assigned to lead a rebuilt Helgen. 
> 
> Erdi is a prominent character in Syllis' main series, [Seek To Mend](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1293077), as well as a whole number of one-shots and drabbles that derive from it. She's a former postulant of Dibella, a (reluctant) champion of Sheogorath, determined knight and all-around badass.


	3. Stolen Kiss: Arabella/Gasha

It almost makes it duller, quite frankly, that there’s been no opportunity yet for you to feel what she does, the beauty of her skill, for yourself. _Feel_ , as opposed to _see_.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t at all curious what it would be like.

And it’s not that there’s ever been anything _dull_ , when it comes to the two of you. Even so…

Ridiculous. A non-issue, really. The body has an abundance of space on its surface for –

Only your ear lobes altered thus far – so sparsely, and so, so long ago – and not an inch of skin! What are _ear lobes?_ Ear lobes are pitiful. Especially compared to the way she glimmers and dances with all those spinning, swaying shards of light - and sharp angles and grooves and the gaze she throws you over her shoulder every once in a while, when she’s submerged deep, deep in outlining her creations, moulding her art into perfection (and truly, maddeningly, how many times can one be perfect in what they do, and still not be satisfied?), and the flash of that gaze is quick and hypnotising, the way only a pocketknife springing to life can be – and the analogy matches the nature of the city she calls home, isn’t that somehow quite the oddity?

And she’d definitely not object to the idea, no. You’ve spotted how she seems to be meditating upon the curve of your mouth, measuring the contours of an arm or the rise of a shoulder blade you bare to the wavering candlelight, to the bathroom’s chill and the water’s warmth.

(Were she to feel like teasing, like prolonging the wait to make the payoff even sweeter, she’d stay there, lounging on a bench in a far corner, slyly waiting her turn. Almost better than the times she deems the bathtub more than spacious enough for two. Almost.)

And it would be wonderful, wouldn’t it? Severely impractical, the baubles, far too reckless, perhaps, they could get snagged and tear, and that thought more than manages to make you wince – but colours wouldn’t! Her paintings. To be a living canvas for her art, it verges on the edge of too much – but it doesn’t cross that edge, does it? You wonder what in the world it would even take for you or her to cross it, at this point.

So, yes, it _would_ be wonderful – and even a ring or two, really, you can indulge, fantasise about it some days, when you’re alone, draped across your bed, half-beckoning for sleep to come; and in your mind, it all takes something of a mesmerising tint you don’t quite have the heart to dismiss.

Again, many years have passed since then, but you recall how it felt, the lightning-fast hurt. Nothing, gritted teeth, then your shoulders lurching while it rolled through you like a wave, encircling your skull then down, radiating from the little puncture, and then, too, from the matching one on the other side. More heat than pain, for some strange reason – and it would be the same now, for certain, but there would also be _her_ , and you know, you just _know_ the quiet glint of pride in her eyes at seeing you adorned with her craftsmanship, you can _sense_ it as though something already lived and witnessed. And you know the kiss, soft and full of care, almost furtive, almost apologetic, with which she’d soothe away all that needs soothing, because those, at least, her lips and the marvellous press of her fangs, are beauties she's bestowed upon you, that you've _felt_. What seems like a thousand times, and still not nearly enough. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The POV character of this chapter, Arabella (a passionate, noble heart, manifested in an equally noble demeanour), is [Kestrelshade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kestrelshade)'s lovely Bosmer OC, and she can actually be found in another [one-shot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22885000) written by [Syllis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syllis), also for the server's Bingo challenge! :D 
> 
> And as for Arabella's partner in this... she is none other than Gasha, one of [Paunchy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raunchyandpaunchy)'s creations. Immensely talented, kind and good-natured, but also utterly kick-ass Orsimer, she is the owner of a body modification shop in Riften called The Maker's Mark. A heart-warming portrayal of her can be enjoyed in [this chapter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16047026/chapters/38494166) of her author's one-shot collection, "A Rielle in Tamriel."


End file.
